The Rosie O'Donnell-Donald Trump feud seems to be over as the provocative host of ABC's The View decided to take on the most popular show on television.

Rosie has deigned to take on Idol, saying the Fox mega hit is too mean, as evidenced by Wednesday night's Seattle auditions. Elisabeth Hasselbeck, Joy Behar et al decided to join the plump comedienne in her criticism of our favorite show.

However, it's a criticism that's introduced and reintroduced year after year. Rosie's assertion that Idol judges make too much of appearance and behave cruelly toward auditioners is not exactly worthy of a patent. However, suggestions in the media that Season 6 has been more cruel and mean relative to past seasons is worth consideration.

Nevertheless, I don't see any difference. Last season, Mandisa -- who made the Top 12 -- left a successful audition to the sound of Simon saying, "Guess we're going to need a bigger stage."

This season, the megamillionaire-probably-billionaire referred to Kenneth Briggs, a young, aspiring contestant as an animal from the jungle, a bush baby. Rosie had seen enough; this one comment was enough to make her flail her arms as if she were attacking Donald Trump's toupee.

Nevermind that several weeks ago, Rosie drew criticism for mocking Asians. Heck, I don't think that's even relevant; the conversation is about Idol and whether its inherent meanness is something that eclipses good taste.

I say no -- 100 billion percent no. Real life in general is actually significantly meaner, on a daily basis. Every day, Rush Limbaugh is likely to say something about poor Americans (who aren't standing in his judgment, mind you) that is significantly meaner, collectively, than something said on our favorite show.

What's significant here is that the business Simon Cowell is in IS mean, proportionally meaner than the business Rush Limbaugh is in. Proportionally meaner than your workplace, than my workplace, proportionally meaner than the world in general ... and, if you asked me, Simon's comments and the laughter of all three judges, the snickering after certain contestants leave is probably less pointed than what goes on in most social circles.

First, the entertainment business is terribly cruel. The notion that any of these spares gets any feedback from somebody with experience is significantly more benevolent than what most get in the real world, even if the feedback is, "Dreadful. Absolutely dreadful."

Truth is, most aspiring musicians, singers and songwriters should give up their dreams. Most can't play worth a damn. Most can't sing worth a damn, and most don't really have an inkling about songwriting other than songs usually contain verses and choruses.

There is something to be said for Idol giving a class of entertainment wannabes new life in knowing that they'll never be in entertainment.

However, I don't know that THAT is relevant either.

What's relevant is Rosie's contention that the show would be equally successful without the bad auditions, the criticism and the chuckling -- without the meanness. And, that contention is a trillion percent wrong.

Rosie said last week that people would tune in just for great singers and great music, and I've preached from Season 1 that Idol could never succeed just on great music and great talent.

Truth is, the talent is mostly marginal, and the music is often painful. What is magnetic about the show is the audition process, the cycle of seeing hopes shattered and dreams born. Without Simon's belittling, without Randy's "Yo, dawg, that was terrible," without Paula's moaning sympathetic tone, folks like Taylor Hicks and Fantasia Barrino and Chris Daughtry don't have reason to jump for joy upon getting their golden ticket.

It's as if the extremity of Idol's negative side is what makes its positives so damned positive. Nevertheless, I'm not certain it's any more mean than most of the rest of the world.

And, the rest of the world damned sure isn't as entertaining as this show.